


If it's for you

by hyacinth_lea



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, M/M, Pining, i guess?, idk what else to say but hope you enjoy, just wrote this at the time based on reaping day and yeah, reaping day setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyacinth_lea/pseuds/hyacinth_lea
Summary: Now it’s fate who chooses and it makes concern crawl suit when the faux control has slipped through people’s fingers, it makes uneasiness escalate higher than the skyscrapers encasing the mass.It’s inevitable to not feel worry increasing rapidly, especially the moment Hongbin feels a tight grasp on his hand. As though Hongbin had become the only source for balance available in a sea of people.
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Lee Hongbin
Kudos: 8





	If it's for you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I'm finally posting this chabin that I had never released on ao3, it's been done since 2018 and has been going through a couple of edits through the years.
> 
> But thought that it was probably time to post this, given that I haven't posted anything lately for a myriad of reasons that I have stated on my twitter, on some that I haven't but that have been causing this inactivity on my end ;;
> 
> Other than that, I hope it's somehow still enjoyable. Been announcing this on my twitter for days and after proofreading it today I think it's good to go. [I am slow reader im sorry asfhh] either way, enjoy?

The silence that befalls the audience makes the words that soon follow resonate against each building surrounding the plaza, booming against walls and windows announces the beginning of the sentence being signed on their surface. And each attempt at letting any kind of noise manifest becomes silenced by the sole announcement hanging heavily in the air. A death sentence waiting for luck to select the name of whoever’s life had been so unfortunate to be chosen by an invisible fate that would relish in the show that awaited, “The time to choose this year’s tribute for the annual Hunger Games has finally arrived” 

The change to the system has caused an overwhelming dread to make its way across the streets, so much more different than when people would be seen throwing themselves into the clutches of imminent death just to feed their pride and ego. Now it’s fate who chooses and it makes concern crawl suit when the faux control has slipped through people’s fingers, it makes uneasiness escalate higher than the skyscrapers encasing the mass. 

It’s inevitable to not feel worry increasing rapidly, especially the moment Hongbin feels a tight grasp on his hand, fingers that intertwine with his own tightly and in search of stability. As though Hongbin had become the only source for balance available in a sea of people. 

His response is simple, but meaningful in its action--his hand tightening the grasp without an ounce of hesitation as his eyes fix on the way their fingers are now entwined. It gives Hongbin a peculiar sensation that rushes through his body, one that once again confirms to him that the way his heart picks up the moment his eyes lock with onyx orbs is solely right even like this. He nods, softly, quickly, an affirmation to his best friend that he would become the support that they both need at the time--what could soothe the tension that he can inhale so easily. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Hongbin states under his breath, his eyes coming to fix on their hands once more, “Just what are the odds that we--” it’s the way that faltering seems to intercept the grasp which makes Hongbin look up, remaining silent upon sight when his pupils register nothing but a faux calm expression colouring bright onyx with a layer of dread. And Hongbin sees right through it in a split second knowing that is a vain attempt at covering the fear building up inside his best friend, inside of Cha Hakyeon’s heart and mind.

Hongbin sees him gulp, anxiety coursing through him rapidly and the way that his voice fails to work at that moment makes Hongbin tilt his head in confusion. Hakyeon bites on his bottom lip, eyes breaking the contact they were holding, “Hyung…?” somehow he can sense the guilt in the way that Hakyeon shakes his head and he can understand its source. The wish that anyone but them were the ones to be called into the clutches of imminent fatality was perhaps selfish, but Hongbin could understand it well. After all, his mind was also hoping for luck to be benevolent and spare them. To be on their side if only for this moment, albeit the self-centered nature of their wish. 

The identity of the chosen tribute is of no importance to Hongbin as long as it wasn’t Hakyeon, there is just no way for him to even be slightly acceptant of it--he is just his best friend but Hongbin can’t lie to himself. He knows there is more to his worry than just fear of losing his friend--and from the way Hakyeon looks back at him, the nature of the feeling is nothing but mutual. Knowing Hakyeon, Hongbin is fully aware of the fact the man by his side is allowing for hatred to tarnish any level headed thought--allowing for selfishness to colour the wishes that they hold, fueling the desire to stay together leading the lives that they have built for themselves throughout the years. 

Hongbin is not blind to the way people from other districts would refer to them and how their wish would be perceived--money fills their accounts to the brim, filthy rich in the eyes of others but Hongbin knows that all the money in the world couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to buy him someone like Hakyeon. It doesn’t matter if he sounds self-absorbed, but the thought of Hakyeon’s name resonating throughout the plaza and hammering his heart until it shattered is an idea he doesn’t want to consider.

_Not by those people_ , Hakyeon’s name is too precious to escape the lips of the organizers of a massacre like this.

Yet even the most sacred word can fall the lips of the greatest sinner and it makes his hopes explode like the canons that do when they announce the demise of their puppets--believing in such things as luck is in futility when it pierces through the air even against their will, “Cha Hakyeon”

It’s only his name, but it causes for silence to wrap around the majority of citizens with some gasps cutting the noiseless atmosphere of District 1. It is entirely unbelievable that a joke of destiny had chosen for its doll to be broken to be Hakyeon--out of all people, it _had_ to be him, and the disbelief consumes every spectator, but Hakyeon and Hongbin get drowned by it even faster. 

“I...me…” his voice trembles, gaze fixing on the ground and Hongbin feels the grasp on his hand tightening--an evident unwillingness to let go in that moment.

Hongbin looks up, his sight catching a guard coming their way to seize Hakyeon and rip him away from his life, from his home, from Hongbin himself. His heart rate accelerates the closer the guards come, the distance between an imposed contract to offer Hakyeon’s life being diminished rapidly. It makes Hongbin act hastily, mind void, and trail of thought frayed as a consequence from being witness to such insanity--he doesn’t think when he yanks Hakyeon his way and pushes him aside, stepping forward and standing in front of Hakyeon. An aim to protect his hyung in the defensive stance he showcases, an action Hakyeon comprehends far too quickly, “Hongbin--no!”

“I volunteer as tribute!” every single gaze in the crowd lands on him, feeling the bewilderment from the audience after his yell startled all souls surrounding him--Hongbin doesn’t crave the attention he is getting, much less the murmurs that proclaim that the most popular perfumer in the district has thrown himself in the arms of lunacy for doing this. Hongbin ignores the daze that follows, the confusion that his words have caused and he makes it clear that there is not a sliver of hesitation in what he is saying, “I said I volunteer as tribute!” he repeats, “Just… don’t take Hakyeon away from here” 

Hakyeon allows for desperation to be present in his actions, clinging to Hongbin while ignoring whispers which aim to criticize him, to deem his actions as reckless and wonder about the intentions that lay hidden behind them. Yet Hakyeon wraps his arms tightly around Hongbin’s waist, head hiding in the crook of Hongbin’s neck, “I was chosen. I will go and if I die it’s okay, Hongbin I--”

“Hyung, just shut up and--”

But Hakyeon’s grief is halted, voice booming once more now with a tinge of mockery brightly highlighting the words mentioned, “Well, it seems we have got ourselves a tribute, it is such a shame that it would still be either of you”

Hongbin scoffs, ‘ _shame’_ the woman proclaims. Not like any of them cares who lives or dies anyway. _Shame_ , and Hongbin wants to truly snap at those words when he knows precisely why she fakes that emotion--simply because she wouldn’t be getting more of his perfumes if he were to die, or more cosmetics if Hakyeon was to die, ‘ _What a shame indeed--well, you can go to hell for all I care’._

The guards hastily rip Hakyeon away from Hongbin, eyes glazing and no trace of care at the fact he is almost on the verge of breaking down right in front of thousands of people, “Hongbin don’t do this! I am old enough to handle this on my own” he shouts, seized by a peacekeeper that demands him to keep quiet and it takes an incredible amount of self-restraint to not punch that toy from the Capitol right on his helmet. Anger coursing through Hongbin at seeing how the masked man has Hakyeon in his hold.

Hongbin only turns his head to the side, wishing to imprint Hakyeon’s image in his pupils even if the last thing he sees is the pain that taints his usually calm expression. Hongbin tries the best he can to keep his voice steady, but he is uncertain of how good he will be at it when his heart feels like it has already been shot, “Hyung, I would follow you through good and bad”

“Bin-ah...”

“This world can’t be without you”

“Hongbin stop-”

Weakness crawls in the way Hongbin smiles, perhaps imminent defeat, but it’s enough to stop the desperation Hakyeon’s words hold even if for a fleeting moment--the true emotions hidden in them displaying themselves when Hongbin speaks, “I will go in your place, Hakyeon-hyung.” It escapes Hongbin’s lips, almost inaudible yet through the loud murmuring, Hakyeon can still decipher the words--astonishment abound falling over his shoulders. 

Contemplations cease to exist when careless pushing moves Hongbin forward, prompting him to walk through the crowd--familiar faces exhibiting panic upon seeing the reality of it coming closer just as he approaches the stage. Lee Hongbin is being taken away. Lee Hongbin’s life was offered by his own choice to save Hakyeon’s--and it’s incomprehensible to some, but crystal clear to Hongbin’s heart, if offering himself as tribute means protecting Hakyeon, then so be it.

He wants for the certainty in his actions to remain unbreakable, yet all that filters through Hongbin’s ears are the yells filled with desperation coming from Hakyeon--and they pain him, pierce through him like the cold steel from a dagger that had been aimed at his heart, stabbing him repeatedly time and time again and leaving him to bleed out every time his name is pronounced by Hakyeon. And if hearing the harrowing screams that showcase vividly Hakyeon’s anguish pains him like this, then Hongbin would rather be in this position. Causing Hakyeon this pain over being the one feeling it, and it’s too selfish--Hongbin is aware of the self-centered nature of his actions, yet the yells of panic are more tolerable than the screams and pleads Hongbin would let out. Then the misery it would bring him to beg fate to rewind itself, not take Hakyeon away, to not allow for death to have the bliss of embracing him for eternity.

Hongbin succeeds in muting the despair present in Hakyeon’s voice, ignoring him just enough in order to have the courage to set foot on the stage created for this circus. A mic is placed in front of him immediately, for him to take part in the show, follow the craziness, “Welcome! Let’s give a warm welcome our dazzling tribute here!” the host of this insanity speaks, and Hongbin rolls his eyes at the irony of this all. Disbelief cascading at how this really is nothing but a play when he is asked the most ridiculous question of it all--a mockery, that woman, out of all people, “What’s your name, my dearest?”

Hongbin avoids meeting eyes with the host, rather making it focus on the crowd, but he unconsciously searches for Hakyeon--and he sees him there, hopelessness overcoming him, shaking his head. Pleading Hongbin not to answer the question that was asked of him because that would mean actually taking part in all of this, because he would be participating in what would taint his hands in scarlet, in what could take his life away. 

And it prompts Hongbin to not stop, because it would kill him to see Hakyeon in that same position. The spotlight is on him now, and it’s best like that, he will take this fall and have his life be the one on the line. His lips quiver slightly, but he still signs the contract by answering, “Lee Hongbin.” 

“So, why volunteer?” there is no immediate answer to that inquiry, tension from the intensity of the gazes that come from the public creates tinges of hesitation in Hongbin. He can’t quite explain why, he can’t put his feelings out in the public--he can’t say that he would be crushed if he saw Hakyeon here, he can’t do that to him. Not right now. 

The woman tilts her head to the side in bemusement, Hongbin’s eyes fix on the ground momentarily yet she keeps the spectacle going for the sake of the ratings, “But my dearest,” she begins, trying to get a response out of him, “That’s your best friend and business partner right there! Don’t you have more to say?”

“Of course,” Hongbin starts, tone direct, words sharp, “Yet you already know that, don’t you?”

The sarcasm that controls his words is far too discernable, a vivid irony that is met with hostility the moment there is a sudden impact on his abdomen--it makes him grunt in pain, falling to his knees, “You darned--”

“Silence!” a deep voice demands, Hongbin looks up, the peacekeeper has his weapon close to his frame--an exhibit of the power they hold over him at the moment. Hongbin hisses, but is soon hushed by another command, “Answer the question!”

“Oh now now, there is no need for brute force,” the woman intervenes, stepping all over Hongbin’s pride by showing that she has the power that he currently has given up, “I am sure he didn’t mean it, right dearest?”

The eye contact is short-lived, but Hongbin can’t do anything but comply, “I’ve got nothing to say, I volunteered so…” his words trail off, and a couple more fall from his lips, a hushed whisper that attempts to hide his actual reasons but fails, “Just… leave Hakyeon out of this.”

He is certain that his words haven’t reached Hakyeon, but there is hurt painted in his visage, a once pure canvas having been torn by hopelessness, by guilt soiling it with heavy strokes until it’s nothing but such emotion. And the sight breaks Hongbin, eyes injected with red hues, words tangled up in agape lips--it’s asphyxiating. Yet it’s better this way. Hakyeon isn’t weak, Hongbin is quite certain of that--that a game like this could certainly be tackled by him. Yet weakness is represented in himself, in the inability to stand the thought of not having Hakyeon be part of his life anymore. And that’s more suffocating than anything else.

_‘Master Hongbin?’_

And yet, Hongbin believes that all of this is worth it, if it is for Hakyeon. That his life being on the line is worth it, that he could even be as bold to say that would back it back if the odds were in his favour. If the sharp reflexes he is aware he possesses aid him in a situation like this to avoid the threat of death calling out to him. To not turn into the mere sound of a cannon.

_‘Master Hongbin…?’_

And even if it were to become nothing but a simple explosion to announce his demise, he still would take this view with him--for a memory to accompany to the afterlife to be that of Hakyeon, albeit hurtful, he would be the last person he sees before this fatal game commences. Hongbin’s gaze remains fixed on only one spot, the place where he was standing next to his hyung, where he last felt the warmth of his hand entwined with his own.

And he doesn’t even attempt to look elsewhere, not even as all becomes nothing but Hakyeon, not even in the hazy blur, when his lips move but words can’t be heard. It’s foggy, dazed, convoluted--it feels like a glitch, the image of his hyung is tarnished with black stains. All is covered in darkness. Muted, numb.

A high-pitched yell brings him back.

“Master Hongbin!” There is distress abound, a distraught tune that makes him wince, “Oh my god, are you alright?”

There is a soft touch on his forehead, coupled with a concerned voice--it’s effective to make him return to reality, a swift hit of dizziness overcoming him. When his eyes open, he can see a familiar hue of hazel, round and vivid, it’s one of the maids in his mansion. She quickly takes some steps back when he meets eyes with her, abashment taking over her, “I’m so sorry for my manners, I was concerned, you seemed to be having a nightmare and--” she stammers. Hongbin plans to reply, to reassure her that everything is alright, but the moment she is no longer in front of him, the light filtering through the curtains hits him, and he squints. Head pounding. 

He hears a gasp, quick steps to solve the problem, “I’ll close the windows, I’m so sorry,” the maid quickly says, and so she does and that’s the sight that greets Hongbin once the curtains are closed and his eyes can fully adapt, “You weren’t coming down for breakfast and we were concerned, excuse my manners.”

Hongbin tries to get rid of the disorientation he is experiencing, sitting up on his bed, a hand brought to his forehead. He studies his surroundings, it’s the same white walls he is used to waking up to each day, the same classical decoration, the golden curtain--it’s his room, and so long as he is awake it will continue to be. Once the familiarity has settled in he lets out a prolonged sigh. _‘A dream’,_ he reaffirms to himself, it was nothing but a product of his unconscious mind, just a dream. The definition of unreal, yet the dread hasn’t quite left his system--flashes of those moments filled with anguish surface in his mind. Hakyeon’s visage.

The pain feels just like the blow that brought him to his knees in the dream.

He doesn’t know what expression has taken over his features, of what is reflecting in his eyes, because he is asked with worry quite quickly, “Are you alright, Master Hongbin?” 

Worried eyes study him from above, and Hongbin tries his best to compose himself, rapidly masking his distress with a signature smile, “I’m alright,” he replies, a nod for reassurance. There is no need to worry anyone else for the things his mind conjures up, “I’ll get ready and go to the dining room in a few minutes.”

The girl wants to protest, but Hongbin tilts his head to the side, smile unfading, and she can only sigh. A small bow, her steps quickly leading her out of Hongbin’s chamber, the door closing behind her immediately. 

Hongbin stares for some seconds at the closed door, waiting until he is sure he is completely alone. He can hear the steps farther away, but he only lets himself breathe once there are no more sounds that indicate another presence is close to him. There is some sort of relief upon that, though fear still threatens to not leave him alone all day. After all, he does know the date--one day before the insanity that everyone tunes in starts, a day before Reaping day.

And a dream like that only creates inner conflict in him, installs fright that shouldn’t be there but is.

He rises from his bed, trying to replace his concern with thoughts about the imminent responsibilities he has at his job--so that his day starts the usual way, with him getting in the shower to then get ready and for today to pass as usual. For it all to be calm, yet there is no way for that concept to exist right now no matter how much he tries--not when the only thing in his mind slips from his lips without him noticing, “I should call Hakyeon-hyung.” 

Nightmare or omen, it doesn’t matter. Hearing from Hakyeon is a priority to him now.

Breakfast is had in haste, time is too precious to lose it in a typical daily activity. He rushes outside his mansion, car waiting for him to take him to the headquarters of his company. It feels as if he is escaping from it all, to a place where he can’t be alone with thoughts that will plague him--and work is the only solution. And then, calling Hakyeon will solve things, he will tell him of the nightmare, disclose every single detail--he will mention how despair took over him to the point he offered his life for him, he will tell him that at least in that world he was safe. Every detail, offer him all the information in hopes it doesn’t become true. Even if he will get teased, ‘aw do you care that much about me?’ Hakyeon most likely will say, and Hongbin knows he will just get embarrassed, tell him not to think so highly of himself. Say afterwards he was just joking. 

The city displays in front of him like a maze, perhaps that’s his witness to the plan he has.

Yet when he arrives at his office, Hakyeon is already there. Sitting behind his desk, on his chair, legs crossed, a picture-perfect sight with a kind of elegance that makes Hongbin’s eyes widen, “Arriving late today, huh?” and there is that cheekiness, that sweet caramel teasing him, “You are starting to slack off, what’s wrong Hongbin-ah?”

“Where’s my good morning?” he fakes offense, a hand on his chest before laughter replaces that act. And Hakyeon responds in the same manner, a nice good morning, and if all continues like this--then all mornings can be this way. Hongbin approaches his desk, “Off my chair hyung, please.”

Hakyeon raises one hand to stop him before he comes closer, “I was just checking through your files while thinking of the next campaign,” Hakyeon starts, picking up a folder from Hongbin’s desk, searching for a specific page it appears, “You know how we can’t just fall behind in this industry, so I was thinking--”

“Hyung.” Hongbin interrupts.

“Wait, let me explain, I have this idea that could work with the products of my company and I think I have just the precise model for this and--” 

“Hyung.” 

Hakyeon stops, it is weird for Hongbin to interrupt in the middle of business talk. He raises an eyebrow, lips pouty trying to express offense at his words having been intercepted like this twice. Yet instead of reprimanding him, he sighs, the kindness in his being reflects in his words, “What’s wrong, Bin-ah?”

Hongbin doesn’t really know how to explain what exactly is wrong, the determination to tell him what has him worried falters. And the only thing that comes to mind it’s just how this feeling, this calmness that Hakyeon holds as part of his personality, is nothing but right. And something Hongbin wants to bask in for as long as he can, “Let’s go out today, Hakyeon.”

It surprises Hakyeon and Hongbin both, coming off as too sudden a request to the point Hakyeon doesn’t think Hongbin is being serious about this, “What? Like a date?” he teases.

Hongbin rolls his eyes, though he understands why Hakyeon is so perplexed regarding his request--the teasing doesn’t work this time however, there is no embarrassment that threatens to make Hongbin just escape the office. So he reaffirms what he asked by elaborating, “I meant going out, as in dinner, shopping--anything. Whatever you want as long as we go out.” 

It’s an anomaly in his behaviour, too strange to the point that Hakyeon chuckles, bewildered, unable to process such request. But Hongbin remains there, silent, and that makes Hakyeon notice that Hongbin actually means it, that he is serious regarding what he is proposing. About skipping work, about going out, just the two of them. 

“Sure,” Hakyeon says, a nod following, “Let’s have fun, Bin-ah.” 

Hongbin isn’t sure how to classify this day as, whether it’s actually fun, or if he is just trying to make memories while walking around the streets of District 1, while visiting different places alongside Hakyeon as they converse about a myriad of topics, and as they fall into a comfortable silence that Hongbin wouldn’t change for anything. There are mentions of work here and there, but Hongbin always tries to divert the topic to other random accounts from his own life to memories they have shared together. Laughter, that’s always present, because at times Hongbin can’t prevent himself from letting his sassy replies irritate the older. He even goes as far as acting like he doesn’t want to receive any kind gestures from Hakyeon, only to be able to see him frown and pout--to see that adorable side of him.

He wishes he could have brought something to record all this, to have been able to remember to save this before night had fallen. But the veil of stars arrived quicker than he wanted it to.

They walk under the city lights after having passed by an ice cream shop late at night, steps taking them towards a bridge so they can admire the scenery of the city at this time, “Hyung,” Hongbin starts, he doesn’t want to spoil the happiness this day had brought, but it’s been present all the time--in the depths of his mind, and he feels like he will suffocate if he doesn’t ask this, “What would you do… if I was chosen tomorrow?” 

It probably comes off as a shock to Hakyeon, something that he is quite unable to process upon first hearing it. Hongbin sees Hakyeon immediately turning his head, for their eyes to lock in a brief moment before Hongbin shrugs and turns to look at the scenery once again. An attempt to minimize the importance of the question he has just asked. He expects scolding, perhaps a rant about how he is allowing for thoughts like that to invade him. _'You have lost it'_ , and he would justify it if Hakyeon said that.

But words don't come as fast as he expects it, instead, there is a light touch on his hand, lingering for some seconds and Hongbin can't help but wonder about the thoughts that are going through Hakyeon's mind. He still doesn't face him, allows himself to indulge in the silence.

But Hakyeon breaks it, his words tearing the tension apart, and possibly Hongbin's heart along with it, "I would go instead of you."

It's said with reassurance, it seeps through his ears with nothing but adoration. It settles panic in Hongbin's system. He quickly turns around, and it's the only time he would say this to Hakyeon, "No."

Hakyeon is fast to react to his negative, a finger pressing against Hongbin's lips in response, his eyes seem to smile as he looks at Hongbin, "The world needs you Hongbin-ah," Hakyeon says, it makes Hongbin want to make him stop, for his words to be halted--and it's as if he can't see the anguish covering his irises because Hakyeon continues. And even if it displays the foundations of their bond so clearly, Hongbin doesn't want to hear him, "I would gladly switch places with you, Bin-ah."

A couple of steps backwards, away from his aura, away though he craves the closeness, "I've done enough."

Hakyeon takes a step closer to him, hands falling on Hongbin's arms to stop him from making the distance between them bigger, "I'm the one who has done enough, you still have a long way to go."

There is no way for Hongbin to discern if Hakyeon is actually truly alright with the idea he is proposing, if it's part of his beliefs to give up his freedom in exchange for the life of someone close to him. If it's something just said in the moment, something just meant to comfort Hongbin. 

_Or are they really this close?_ Hongbin wonders, _can Hakyeon mirror the actions Hongbin would do for him?_ Hongbin sighs, not wanting to give much thought to his hyung's words, steps taking him back to the bridge, inhaling the night air before pronouncing any more words.

If only tomorrow wouldn’t come, if only tomorrow could be skipped like the worst part of a film and for the day after to come to them--if only he could make sure that the nightmare would remain as such. And Hongbin wishes with all his strength for all to remain a nightmare, for it to never be a part of reality, for it to vanish just like those images did. For the fright to disappear, “Hyung,” Hongbin mentions, eyes now fixing on Hakyeon, gazes locked. And he is aware that the other is waiting for a response that he is delaying, letting for the words to remain on the tip of his tongue far too long. He could say so much, he could offer him his life, or perhaps to run away--but destiny can’t be so cruel, and at the same time it can’t be evaded. Hongbin breathes out, not letting what he truly wants to say to be the actual words he ends up pronouncing, “If I die, don’t mourn my death.”

“Oh my god, Hongbin! What’s this about!” Hakyeon complains, but Hongbin can’t find it in himself to give him all the details. To say that he would bring to reality his choice if he were to be put in the same position as he was in his dream. Hongbin’s gaze focuses on the city lights instead, but he can hear steps coming close, a faint trail of lavender reaches his nostrils--all too familiar an scent, one that he himself prepared inspired by the man on his side, “Don’t go so morbid on me…” Hakyeon says, words weak in a whisper. 

A chuckle, the mention of morbidity somehow sounds amusing to Hongbin when that’s the very definition of what will happen come morning. Yet perhaps, his words presented harsh tones that could have confused Hakyeon, and he acknowledges it the moment he looks at the older, elbows on the railing, eyes downcast. Yet even with worry tarnishing his overall bright expressions, somehow Hakyeon always looks ethereal, always appears as nothing but perfection. And Hongbin wishes he would be able to say something appropriate, somehow break the tension he has imposed on them--so he decides for any barrier to be non-existent, being clear without anything disturbing the reality of his words, “Thank you for the date, hyung.” 

It’s all too fast, Hakyeon being caught off guard with no shield to have prepared him for such words coming from the younger, his elbows almost give away, and Hongbin sees strokes of surprise colouring his visage. There is no witty comeback, just studying every single component of Hakyeon’s astounded face, of onyx orbs filled with astonishment.

A smile paints itself on Hakyeon’s lips, “So, it indeed was a date, huh?”

Hongbin nods, for once he has to be direct, “One of many I hope.” 

The bemusement is evident in the way that Hakyeon raises an eyebrow, incredulity shows itself when Hakyeon reaches for Hongbin, index finger digging on Hongbin’s cheeks to see him react, so that he is told that Hongbin is joking--or that’s what Hongbin wants to believe. That Hakyeon is trying to get his facade to break, perhaps he is under the belief that Hongbin’s words hold anything but seriousness. But Hongbin doesn’t do anything, there is no frowning, no pushing away, no complaints asking for Hakyeon to not touch him or he will explode in fake disgust from the contact. 

It settles a bittersweet taste in Hakyeon’s lips, a current that begins engulfing him. A sensation that takes over with no explanation, undecipherable. But Hakyeon is aware he isn’t fond of the feeling. It raises disgust, but Hakyeon truly has no explanation or logic that could make said emotion rational. 

A sole smile is what Hongbin offers Hakyeon, one that lacks the usual brightness that normally colours it--and he wonders if the hopelessness he feels deep inside is somehow discernable in it. If the dread he wishes to eradicate is visible enough through it. 

Hongbin’s hand ends up on top of Hakyeon’s--his only wish to be capable of enjoying a night like this, next to Hakyeon, a little escape from reality in a bubble that only belongs to the both of them right now. And if only the dread disappeared, then he wonders if he would be able to say more. Uncertainty weighs heavier though, because he isn’t quite certain if he is in a state to chain someone with his words if fate decides to inflict cruelty. 

Anxiety does its best to never allow for Hongbin to be in solitude, staying by his single every single minute of that night--even until the point in which drowsiness hits Hongbin to prompt him to finally allow himself to fall asleep. Hakyeon’s words resonating in his ears, images from that day hazy. Praying it wasn’t the last time that life allows for him to indulge in moments like these.

Yet, time follows its course, welcoming the cursed day with open arms, providing it with the power to entertain twisted minds and terminate with lives that could have led another type of journey. 

The public still gathers, the voice from the host still booms throughout the structures of the city, still resounds against walls. Silence befalls--it plays out exactly the same as Hongbin had seen it. And when Hakyeon stands right next to him, it all brings an uncanny sense of Deja vu that Hongbin tries his best to combat.

“Are you ready to volunteer for me, hyung?” he teases, just to ease the tension he is feeling.

Hakyeon immediately turns to him, glaring at Hongbin as if he had said the biggest offense, “You are not going to get chosen, Bin-ah,” he states as if he was the holder of the definite truth, owner of some device that allows him to peek into the future--Hongbin shrugs, trying to minimize the weight of his words, “And it’s you, Lee Hongbin, we are talking about--you are important.”

The importance that Hakyeon is talking about is something that makes Hongbin want to break into laughter--what could be special about someone like Lee Hongbin? The fact that he is an ace perfumer known to all of district 1 and probably beyond? There is nothing significant about it. Whether one owns a fortune or not becomes irrelevant, name? Meaningless. There is not a single soul that can avoid being dragged into this, into putting their lives on the line for these so-called games. So, what does it matter? What value could his life hold?

Hakyeon comes close to him, letting his words turn into a whisper as he lowers his volume, a pat on the small of Hongbin’s back, “What are the odds that one of us gets chosen in this sea of people?”

And Hongbin just wishes for Hakyeon to be correct, it would be too cruel a joke if either were. But it would be just as heartless to anyone else who would end up in these games’ clutches.

The host continues her welcoming speech, talking about the importance of this year’s Reaping Day, about the honor, the prizes, the fact that the Capitol will provide you everything shall you become the victor. But it’s not as handsome a proposal as the fact of getting to live without the dread of losing someone… far too important. Hongbin wishes for everything to be over--for luck to be on their side so neither of their names is pronounced.

For him to be the one that gets to pronounce Hakyeon’s name.

A hand on the side of Hakyeon’s neck, his lips grace the side of Hakyeon’s ear, words caress the older, bound him and freeze him on the spot. Hongbin feels a light shiver coming from Hakyeon on his fingertips after his words have been said. 

“I would give my life for you, Hakyeon-hyung” 

It is stated so simply, so matter of factly, Hongbin wouldn’t take any of those words back. He is entirely aware of the importance and weight his words hold, especially in a situation like this. And he wonders if it counts as the confession that has been silently awaiting in the back of his mind, ready to be told to its rightful owner. 

Hakyeon’s lips are agape, and Hongbin knows that this is perhaps the most inappropriate moment to have let him know that--when the risk of being separated is present, crawling through the floor and eager to perhaps choose them as the perfect victim. Because life is ironic like that. 

Hongbin sees Hakyeon blinking rapidly as if he was trying to process what had fallen from the younger’s lips--the sudden confession from Hongbin’s lips making him grasp the back of Hongbin’s shirt tightly. It’s out there, the depth of what Hongbin feels, his hand trembles as he runs it down Hakyeon’s arm, and Hongbin can feel that Hakyeon feels the same chills he does.

“Hongbin-ah...” perhaps it’s because solely by those words, Hongbin managed to transport them both to a world in which things can be only about them--enough to make them oblivious to the words the host directs to the audience, yet not effective in halting time for them, in pausing everything so the moment Hongbin was dreading doesn’t arrive, “Bin-ah, I--”

Hakyeon’s words get drowned by the beginning of the announcement, when the host starts speaking, when the choice has been made, “And the chosen tribute for this year’s Hunger Games is,” Hongbin prays, pleads to whoever can hear him through the desperation he feels for things to not repeat themselves in the same way. His eyes fix on the glass bowl, selfishness grows fast in him to the point it could suffocate him--that greedy wish for it to be another name the one that resonates against the walls.

It is the definition of wrong and self-centered for him to hope for this, and for a split second, he also thinks that perhaps hell would await him just because of his hope to be spared, for tragedy to fall upon someone else. But he can’t help it, not when Hakyeon answers him in a silent way by grasping Hongbin’s hand, tightly, emanating warmth, unwilling to let go and be away from him. Hongbin takes it as the response to his confession, but it’s short-lived, life can truly be ruthless--giving you bliss and ripping it away from you, “Cha Hakyeon.”

Hongbin’s eyes shut tight at the eerie reality that has presented itself in front of him, there is a scream waiting to be let out entangled in his throat, his feet want to command him to escape, to run away from it all--take Hakyeon’s hand and flee, just the both of them. And he then feels Hakyeon’s grasp tighter on his hand. Hongbin has to look at the older’s eyes now, the utter disbelief, the bewilderment, the shock--the inability to believe that stars would align this way on this accursed day.

The steps of the peacekeepers feel in close proximity, and Hongbin wonders if Hakyeon hates him for having said what he did. If this was the most inappropriate moment, if Hakyeon’s questioning gaze is holding any judgment in it. It was highly likely that either would end up facing death at any moment if this insanity was to choose them--but Hongbin stops thinking altogether the moment that a peacekeeper stands in front of them, ready to take Hakyeon to the stage.

It takes all of Hongbin’s strength to break the contact he has with Hakyeon at the moment, to let go of his hand and push him aside much to Hakyeon’s confusion. He stands in front of his hyung, steps up, an arm open, that defensive stance once more, “I volunteer as tribute!” Hongbin shouts, loud enough for it to reach the ears’ of the host, loud enough it makes the peacekeepers stop in their tracks. A deafening claim to impose silence on the audience, for them to take Hakyeon’s name out of their mouths.

It makes all murmuring stop, all the whispers expressing disbelief at the Capitol taking Hakyeon away come to an abrupt end. The unwanted attention is on Hongbin, the gazes full of shock are too many to count. There is a sepulchral silence in which Hongbin can hear his heart hammering against his chest, in which he can discern that his voice is about to break--but he still shouts, louder, determined, with love making him certain of his actions, “I said I volunteer myself as a tribute! Take me as our tribute!”

It all becomes a haze amidst the thrill in the host’s voice at this turn of events and Hakyeon’s desperate yell following soon after, “Hongbin, no! Don’t do this!” is his plea, while attempting to hold tight onto Hongbin’s waist under the curious gaze of many. But Hakyeon could care less about the gossipping, the murmuring or the shock from others, and Hongbin doesn’t mind the questioning of his sanity by the public--but he isn’t certain if he can resist Hakyeon’s pain at all, “Bin-ah please don’t do this.”

He knows it leaves everyone astounded, that his collected demeanor has shattered with this, that he also is inflicting pain in his family for he hears the shouts of his sister somewhere in the crowd--almost begging for him to not do this. But Hongbin’s willpower can’t be broken, not even if it's Hakyeon the one that asks him to stay there, safe as fate wanted it. Yet, the peacekeepers push Hakyeon aside, and one of them comes to hold the distraught man in place. And if all wasn’t a blur, then Hongbin is sure his fist would have met the face of whoever was under that helmet. Yet all he sees is the crowd as he is pushed through it, nameless faces, a couple known. 

And Hakyeon’s voice reaches him in despair, “Hongbin, come back! I will go, you can’t do this!” 

Hongbin’s steps halt for a moment, glancing back at Hakyeon, “I told you I would give my life for you, right hyung?” says Hongbin, a faint smile on his lips. Shattering the heart of who is most important to him, yet doing what he deems correct at that moment.

“Hongbin, come back!” is the last he hears from Hakyeon just as the peacekeeper prompts him to move, gun pointed at Hongbin’s back.

“Move already.”

“Good for the ratings, am I right?” 

Hongbin is pushed once again, perhaps for his insolent behaviour and is made stand in front of an unknown audience seeing this show through a TV broadcast, in front of the public that must be relieved they aren’t the ones that will risk their lives. In front of his family--in front of a heartbroken Hakyeon. And Hongbin can see him even from where he is standing at, his own heart shattering at seeing what he has caused. But if it had been the other way, he knows he would have been totally crushed. 

“So,” the host starts, “What’s your name, my dearest?” and he can’t help but scoff at the ridiculous question he has been asked, at the irony of how it all repeats. His eyes turn sharp, piercing daggers in the form of a glare--a microphone is placed in front of him, and Hongbin rolls his eyes, on with the show. His gaze fixes on Hakyeon, now making him far more certain of how profound what he feels is--but Hakyeon shakes his head, a silent petition for him to stop--but Hongbin knows it’s too late to turn back. And to him, Hakyeon is worth his life and more, it’s in his power to save him and maybe even come back to him.

He would seal a contract with the devil, if it’s for Hakyeon. And he does, when with nothing clouding, his judgment his words sign his fate, “Lee Hongbin.”

And, if he was given this chance to change the course of events and not lose Hakyeon this way, perhaps the odds favour him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read up until here, thank you so much, I'm sorry if it maybe wasn't the kind of thing you were expecting? I however hope that it was enjoyable in some way. Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make my day though ^^;
> 
> ~/Find me on:  
> [//❥❥twitter//](https://twitter.com/hyacinth_lea) [//❥❥CuriousCat//](https://curiouscat.me/hyacinth_lea)[//❥❥Tumblr//](https://hyacinthlea.tumblr.com/)
> 
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